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You speak to me and
I know this will be temporary
You ask to leave,
but I can tell you that I’ve had enough
I can’t take it
This welcome is gone and
I’ve waited long enough to make it
and if you’re so strong
you might as well just do it alone
And I’ll watch you go
Step up to me
I know that you’ve got something buried
I’ll set you free
You set conditions, but I’ve had enough
I can’t take it
This welcome is gone and
I’ve waited long enough to make it
and if you’re so strong
you might as well just do it alone
And I’ll watch you go
Come back home, won’t you come home?
You step in line, you got a lot to prove
It comes and goes
Yeah, it comes and goes
A step in time, yeah it’s a lot to move
I know this will be temporary
I know this will be temporary
I know this will be, but I’ve had enough
I can’t take it
This welcome is gone and
I’ve waited long enough to make it
and if you’re so strong
you might as well just do it alone
And I’ll watch you go
I can’t take it
This welcome is gone and
I’ve waited long enough to make it
and if you’re so strong
you might as well just do it alone
And I’ll watch you go
I just had to blog about this song.
Cosmic urge driven by the awesome-ness of Guns N’ Roses when they were still in their hayday.
Gosh, you should see their newer videos at Rock Am Ring. I used to think Axl Rose was immortal, but he’s aged a whole lot and his voice just isn’t what it used to be.
Besides, this song brings back memories of the first CHMA that I ever went to, when DeCon performed this song. I remember asking Levan and the rest of Ronin which band they were rooting for. Haha.
Han Qi, I still want to market your pubic hair.
Oh well, those were the days. Life was really carefree back then. I didn’t have much to worry about, now I just create problems for myself.
Take me back to that Paradise City?
That’s another song for another day. So here’s “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by the motherfucking Guns N’ Roses.
P.S. You know, if I really wanted to be ignored, I wouldn’t bother talking to you at all. Which is why I’m going to try my best not to from today onwards.
I’m going to Tekong on the 6th of December!!! For NS!!!
National Service!!!
It’s going to be a 15 week BMT because I’m fat. Obese BMT in other words. But who cares?! NS!!!
Fun in the sun and paid weight loss programme! Specially created for young Singaporean and Singapore PR males who are little on the hefty side!
I’m going to be missing AJ’s prom, but who’s to say that slogging it out on Tekong isn’t going to be more happening than prom this year? Haha.
I’m sorry girls, but you’ll have to depend on Jun Yong and Carl to protect you when you’re clubbing!
Anyways, NS is a convenient excuse to get away from people. Or for them to get away from you.
I’m all ready then.
Here’s “Soldier Side” by System Of A Down.
A bulbous nose,
horn-like on a man’s face
A Hawk he is,
staring at the girls.
Boys, dressed like girls
SKinny jeans and skinny frames
Tight shirts and cliques
I will never fit into.
Then another group of boys
All gold and hardcore
Rockers, they try to be
In Chinese.
A crowd,
a baby pram, an old man,
both bumped into me.
As I read the only reply of the three
messages I sent.
Caught up in more than it’s contents
More with what it meant.
A staircase a head,
a couple makes three.
The guy reaches round her shoulders.
And she reaches for his ass.
Boys, playing, pushing
at each other.
Like animals, shirts pulled out
and I follow suit.
Ladies, walk by
pretty, but generic.
I only notice figures
Not faces,
because I am transfixed
by the sight of my feet.
A Coffee Bean!
But no time to stop
A train’s coming.
A broken man,
sits in the Underpass.
Broken at joints
the shoulders and knees.
I stop. I’ve reached.
But there’s 16 more stops to go.
And a bus ride
with a wait not worthing waiting for.
I hope it’s silent then.
This is pretty much how my walk from the bus stop to the MRT station at AMK Hub went. Weird ain’t it? I guess the less you think about the people you know, the more you notice about the people you don’t. Makes me want to clear off my MSN list. Haha.
And here’s a song for all you kiddies. I hope you don’t sleep properly tonight and dream of monsters after seeing this. Here’s Lordi with “They Only Come Out At Night”.
P.S. Getting that DSA is a kickass feeling.
Thanks people.
Especially Junyong and Chin Kim. Haha.
Chin Kim said the most incredible thing to me last night. Something like “life wouldn’t be the same without you”. Wow. Haha, that meant a lot to me.
And the two of them, replied my messages faster than I had time to think when I needed to talk to someone. And the DoTA-ing. Haha. We should really be studying you know.
It’s nice to have friends like that around when you really need someone to perk you up.
Then there’s Ivan and Sherry too. They were real late but it’s all good. I love you too Ivan, and yes, I’ll make sure you’re around the next time I’m having a period. (Yes, a period.)
And then there’s Steph. Haha, your name is so long and my fingers get jumbled up trying to type it. But thanks. 
Here’s “Leave Out All The Rest” by the one and only Linkin Park. This is going to be my funeral song until I hear something better.
If you’re reading this, you know this poem’s addressed to you. Once again, I’m sorry for saying what I said, and not knowing when to stop or what to do. But I have learnt my lesson, and I hope I’ll prove that in time to come.
The Pipe.
The Mouth
It is the Devil’s pipe.
The ghoulish music it makes
seeks only to hurt
not to mend.
It does not know when
to stop playing.
But then again,
neither does its owner.
It always plays the same tune,
insulting, scathing,
like a jeer that gets stuck
in your head,
with all the voices taunting,
flaunting, haunting.
Two weeks, two weeks
Still no end.
The pipe still plays the tune
that is Devilsend.
It never learns,
anything new.
The pipe is dead,
and it’s owner has no clue.
Two weeks, two weeks,
and it is only at crescendo.
No stopping, no stopping,
full of innuendo.
But snap- It breaks in half!
A hand, oh, mighty hand!
that forcefully snaps it shut.
In half.
So the sound is lost.
Only the coarsest whisper can be heard
The darkest hour neared.
A threatening gesture,
that hand did make,
more than the pipe did it
dare to break.
Musician, muse, and mind
in a fiendish grip,
almost to shatter, but not yet.
Only to be left with a tip.
Wisdom, though covered with
much venom and hate,
did not go unheeded.
The musician lay in wait.
Only to agree, and understand
all that was said.
An apology, a soliloquy,
a rhyme and a time
For a second chance,
that poor old dunce,
Did ask for.
Nothing less, already so much more.
And the musician, now a fool,
waits silently,
quietly, without utterance,
for an answer he may never get.
Thus, the pipe lay broken
Unmendable in fact,
but the message it left,
remained very much intact.
“Do not play,”
The message read.
“Unless you wish to make
someone very sad,
or to hurt and main those
you call friends.
Those who play the Devil’s pipe
come to no good ends.”
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